Devil's Touch (7 page)

"Find out for me."

Marc nods.

"How old were you when you had the case?”

"Hmm, I think I was around 40. I used to be a carpenter, but it was boring. Too predictable. So I bought myself a suit and a camera and started. This was my first case."

"Denize gave Evy up for adoption when she met you. But judging by your reaction, you didn’t know that Evy was Denize’s daughter."

Nathan looks down at his hands.

"It’s so awful. I loved her so much and I wanted her to have everything she wanted. When we agreed not to have children, it was like a fact to me. I desperately wanted children, but she said that she didn’t want any. I wanted to give her everything, so I just reinforced that statement."

Nathan’s head touches his chest and his hands are shaking violently.

"It’s just so terrible. We just confirmed each other and we were both afraid to talk about our deepest desires, afraid of pushing the other one away..."

Marc leans back in his chair, creating a distance between himself and Nathan.

"Who’s the other girl?"

"She was the woman’s own child."

"Where is she now?"

"She died of an overdose around three years ago."

"And the woman?"

"Sad story. She died not long after. That’s when I closed the case. My client wouldn’t pay after that. He had the information he wanted. That picture is the last one."

He leans forward and points at the picture of Evy. Marc is quiet for a while, and his eyes wander from Nathan to the sunshine and the garden outside the large windows.

"The thing is, this case has always troubled me."

He touches his chin and his day-old stubble.

"One day when the girls were at the playground, my client suddenly showed up. I don’t know what happened, but suddenly Linda ran home and Evy stayed."

He moves around restlessly in his chair while he watches a bird resting on a branch in the garden outside.

"The short version is that he took Evy, hid behind a tree and did terrible things to her. I should have taken pictures. But he was my only client, the only thing that kept me in business."

Nathan frowns.

"And you kept on working for him?!"

"Yes."

Marc turns to look at Nathan.

"Yes, I did."

"I don’t understand."

Nathan’s voice is full of contempt.

"Yes, I know. Sick."

"Sick? Are you sure you’re..."

Nathan stops.

"He asked me to keep track of who her friends were. He even gave me a list of people to check up on. I was to supposed to check if she was invited to their parties. Then I quit."

"How old was she then?"

Marc looks at him.

"It’s a little over four years ago."

Nathan is surprised and swallows.

"So you have followed her all these years."

Marc tilts his head a little.

"I’ve pretty much made a living from following her."

"She never saw you?"

He shakes his head.

"Apparently not."

"Who was on that list?"

"I have checked the list more closely. All the families had some sort of connection to my client."

"Do you still have that list?"

Marc raises his eyebrows.

"I don’t normally throw things out..."

He looks through the papers in the blue plastic file, then he nods and takes out a piece of paper and hands it to Nathan.

Nathan is surprised when he sees the handwriting, but looks down over the names.

"Hmm, most of these people are rather famous."

Nathan frowns.

"Actually, I have done business with most of them for one of my clients. It was often, what should I call it, not all together straight business. Some of them ended up owing my client big favors or huge amounts of money, that they couldn’t repay him.”

“Who was your client?”

Marc raises his chin and looks at Nathan, and with a slow voice, he carefully forms the words.

"He’s dead now."

Nathan holds the piece of paper with the list on it up against the light. Then he puts it down and looks Marc straight in the eye.

"Yes, he is, because your client was Stuart Pettersson."

Marc does nothing to break their eye contact.

"You were at his parties, and you’ve met Evy. He was your friend, wasn’t he?"

A bird starts to sing outside the window. Nathan stares at Marc, clearly picturing the two girls sitting on the steps in front of the yellow house.

"Denize met her own daughter at one of those parties, and Stuart offered her to me. I just hope she didn’t recognize her. She must have hated Stuart. No wonder she left every time he showed up."

"You never noticed?"

Nathan raises his head. Marc looks out at the bird. It has stopped singing and has started grooming its feathers.

"No."

Marc gets up and takes the list and the photos. Nathan reaches out and takes the photo of the two girls sitting on the steps.

"Can I keep this one?"

Marc looks at him for a long time, then he shrugs.

"Sure, I don’t think I’ll need it anymore."

She slowly lowers her hand and the shadows disappear from her face. She’s still holding up the paper to the sun. She studies the coarse structure of the paper before slowly lowering her hand. The money had fallen out of the envelope when she opened it. She had carefully kept them hidden from Nathan, but it was the same sum as in every monthly envelope from Stuart.
”Every month I can almost pay the rent, but not quite. Couldn’t he have given me the extra 600 just once? Then at least I could have paid the rent that month.”
She looks down at the money in her lap. She suddenly feels sick and leans out over the edge of the bed, expecting to throw up. But nothing happens. In the first months after she had moved in, he had paid for everything. She sits up again, a painful expression on her face.
”When I was dependent on the life style, the acceptance from my friends, like I was one of them.”
A mocking sound fills the room.
”They never asked me where the money came from.”
She looks out the window.
”And then... then he cut down on the money so I couldn’t even pay the rent.”
She looks at the mirror by the end of the bed.
”And then, one night, he brought James to the apartment.”
She closes her eyes when she feels the tears coming.
”Everything very casual and random. But, Stuart, nothing was ever random in the life you showed me. Every little detail was part of a plan.”

She feels how her tears tickle her cheeks as they run down her face. It’s as if the taste of blood in her mouth returns, and again she feels like throwing up. She remembers how merciless the mirror had been. It was as if the first rape had repeated itself, but there were two men in the mirror. When they had left, Evy felt paralyzed, and she had wandered around in the apartment all night, incapable of sleeping or just lying on the bed.  The next day, she had packed her things and left the apartment. The yellow house was dark and no one answered when she rang the bell. She had shrugged and put her key in the lock, but it didn’t fit. Puzzled, she rang the bell next door, all the while blaming herself for not having been in touch with her mother in the three months since she moved out.

"Evy, how you’ve changed. You look good."

The neighbor sounded surprised and quickly tried to straighten the lock of hair by his left ear that was always sticking out.

"Thank you."

She had smiled and tried to seem kind, even though that was the last thing she felt.

"Do you know where my mother is?"

The neighbor had looked surprised, and immediately Evy had felt pressured.

"I haven’t really been in touch with her for the last couple of months. Travelling, you know."

"The only thing I know is that she moved out in a hurry. I don’t even think that all her stuff is gone... but I haven’t seen any new owners. I think it’s just empty… strange, when you think about it."

He had looked at the house so intensely, it was as if she wasn’t there.

"Thank you very much."

He tore his eyes away from the yellow house and looked at her.

"I wasn’t much of a help."

She had shaken her head.

"I must try and find out some other way."

"What about the neighbor on the other side?"

"They’re never home during the day, so they probably haven’t seen anything. I don’t think my mom had any contact with them."

She nodded as a farewell and walked down the path.

"Goodbye, Evy."

The neighbor’s voice send shivers down her spine, and she closed her eyes, taking the next step and then the one after that. For a long time, she stood in the garden in front of the house. The grass was longer than she had ever seen it, but still the garden seemed to take her in and shelter her, reminding her of the many memories, the swing, the steps, but everything seemed so far away, as if in another time.

"The innocence of childhood."

The words surprised her, and the sound of her own voice frightened her. Finally, it had started getting dark and she saw no other option than to pick up her things and go back to the apartment. When she left the garden, it was like leaving herself. For the next two weeks, she had stayed in the living room, only forced into the bedroom by Stuart. After James, there were others. Some came back, others only came the one time, while Stuart either stayed or waited in the living room. Her economic situation improved and she decided to try and find her mother. Now she would be able to help her. But one excuse after another meant that two years went by, and still she hadn’t tried to get in touch with her. Then everything ended. One day the police came to her door. She had been insecure and nervous, but they only had a few simple questions, all of them about her mother.

Finally, they had told her that her mother was dead. It looked like an overdose. Evy had tried to ask the question several times, the two officers patiently waiting for her to get the words right.

"Where did she live?"

The female officer looked at her for a long time.

"She was found in an old, worn out house outside the city."

Evy’s eyes had started to fill up with tears, and she remembered the day when she heard about Linda.

"In an old house outside the city. Just like my sister."

Her words had turned into a whisper, and she had to lean against the door frame. The male officer nodded and gave her his card.

"If you remember anything, please get in touch."

"But, wait. An overdose. I don’t understand."

"The coroner will write a report. We’ll have it in about a week. You’re welcome to call us.”

"But an overdose...?"

"When was the last time you saw your mother? How did she look?

The words had hit Evy with a force she could never have imagined. The officer nodded at her, and she had closed the door very carefully behind them. Then she had leaned against the door frame and slowly fallen to the floor. There was no way she could stop her violent crying. It was dark before she had gotten up and walked through the dark living room and into the bedroom, where she had fallen down on the bed, exhausted. Her eyes had turned to the faded photograph in the silver frame beside the bed. Two girls in their best summer dresses sitting in a swing that’s painted bright yellow and red.  Their faces full of courage for the future, adventure and security. Next to them is their mother. She smiles and waves at the photographer.

Evy opens her eyes and looks at the money in her lap. Then she picks up every bill and carefully folds it until she holds a bundle in her hands. She puts it on the bed and looks back at the night stand. The silver is shining in the sunlight, and the smiling faces make her shiver.

"Now I’ll never know who the photographer was."

She bites her lip, but feels the pain from the cut. Then she straightens herself and starts reading.

No one is like you when the night is long. Your body, our games, when your body…

"Oh, stop!"

The anger is growing inside her.

"You even found some sadistic pleasure in the fact that I didn’t like it."

Furious, she throws the letter away and gets out of bed. In the mirror, she sees how the robe falls down and reveals her one shoulder and breast and her naked stomach. She starts to shiver and awkwardly tears off the robe and runs over to the walk-in closet, tearing the door open.

"Who does he think he is? The exact same letter as every month!"

She grabs some underwear from a drawer, takes a t-shirt from a shelf and picks up her worn out jeans from the floor. But suddenly she stops moving, her lips are moving slowly and she reads.